


Sun Lights Up the Daytime

by Chash



Series: Charity Drive 2018 [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: As the newbie on theArclight, Clarke is the crew member who doesn't know what it means that they have a delivery on Haxus IV, or why Monty is asking for volunteers with lists of acceptable partners.Bellamy fills her in: that's the sex flower planet. It's easier to go in pairs.





	Sun Lights Up the Daytime

**Author's Note:**

> For [happy5192](https://happy5192.tumblr.com/)! I tagged "mild dubious consent" because that's standard with sex pollen, but Clarke and Bellamy consent to go to the sex pollen planet together and have sex if they should be affected by the sex pollen (spoilers: they are). But please be aware this is coming if "we were affected by a weird plant and now must have sex" is not something that appeals to you.

"Okay, last stop is Haxus IV," Monty says. "You all know what that means."

Judging from the groans that greet the announcement, everyone but Clarke _does_ know. It's an experience she's used to, after six months on the _Arclight_ ; she thought she'd be getting used things by now, but it turns out six months isn't long to get over more than twenty years of living on only one planet. The universe is still full of planets she's never heard of.

"I know," says Monty. "I know. Anyone who's willing to go, let me know. Obviously, if you volunteer with a partner, it's easier for me, but if I have to make everyone make preference lists--"

"This is why Bellamy and Echo shouldn't have broken up," Murphy puts in, and Bellamy raises his middle finger without looking at him.

"Why don't you and Emori go?"

"Enough," says Monty. "I'll go myself if no one else wants to, but the usual incentives apply, just let me know if you're willing. Dismissed."

Clarke goes for Bellamy as they leave, and he slows his pace to let her catch him. "Thinking about volunteering, princess?"

She elbows him. "I don't even know what the mission is."

He pauses. "Huh, I guess you wouldn't." Before she can get too used to the sympathy, a smirk takes over his face. "And you didn't just ask?"

"I'm asking now. What's on Haxus IV?"

"Insatia Lilies." At her blank look, he goes on, "The sex flower? Seriously, nothing?"

"I've heard of it," she says, slow. "I know people use it. I just don't know why we care."

"It grows wild there," he says. "Which means any time humans go to Haxus, we risk erections lasting longer than four hours that require immediate attention."

"So Monty wants--"

"Two volunteers who don't mind having sex with each other."

"Why not just one?"

"Because if the worst happens, you want a buddy. I've never actually had it happen by accident, but the effects really are strong and immediate. If you don't have someone to fuck, you find someone fast, and your judgement isn't the best. Pre-consent is safest."

"Never _by accident_?" she asks, and he snorts.

"Of course you'd notice that." He clears his throat, neck going a little red, but he goes on before she can let him off the hook. "The first time I went it was actually with Monty, back when we first joined up, before he was mission control. We figured we could have sex if we had to, and then we didn't, but we were kind of curious."

"So when you didn't get hit in the wild, you decided to get hit on purpose?"

"There are places you can go. We had a day to kill before the ship came back, we figured we'd try it out."

"So you and Monty got high and hooked up."

He shrugs. "Is that a problem?"

"Honestly, I was thinking it didn't sound that bad. What are the incentives?"

"Extra hazard pay. You want to go?"

"Should I not?"

"I wasn't really expecting you to. You need to figure out someone you're willing to go with, though."

Bellamy is Clarke's favorite crewmate, which is why she asked him about the whole thing in the first place. He's a little gruff and sarcastic, but she likes that in a person. And he's also smart and dependable and kind.

Plus, he's attractive, and if she had to have sex with him, it wouldn't be the worst thing.

"You want to?"

He starts, but recovers fast, plastering a smirk on over whatever other expression might have been trying to surface. "You want to fuck me, princess? I'm flattered."

She doesn't take the bait. "That's a yes?"

He actually stops walking, his jaw working slowly as he looks at her, like he's trying to see through to some other, secret motivation she might have. Maybe he thinks she has a crush and doesn't want to encourage her or something; he did break up with his ex fairly recently, maybe he's not ready to risk having to fuck someone else.

"You really want to go?" he asks.

"I really don't see any reason not to," she says. "It's just sex, I've had sex before. I could probably have sex with you if I had to. But if you don't want to, I'll ask Harper."

"Harper doesn't like women much." His tone is distracted, like the words aren't what's taking most of his attention.

"I'll ask someone else," she corrects. "You don't have to. If this is something you did with your ex and it's weird--"

That snaps him out of it, and he laughs. "No, _vacationing on the sex flower planet_ isn't a precious memory that got tainted by the break-up. We just went because it's easier to have a couple do it. If Murphy liked sex more, he and Emori would do it, but it weirds him out." He wets his lips, hesitates for another second, and then nods. "Okay, yeah, come on. We can volunteer. Let's go tell Monty before he stresses himself to death."

Clarke bites back on her smile. "I knew you'd see it my way."

*

"So, tell me more about the Insatia Lilies."

It's not like Clarke has spent the last two weeks thinking about this trip; she's had plenty to keep herself occupied in the meantime. Downtime is something of a luxury on the _Arclight_ ; the fact that she and Bellamy are taking the shuttle and will be on Haxus IV for a full forty hours, of which they only need a few to actually make their delivery, is actually a somewhat staggering. But apparently Monty always plans these trips so that the rest of the crew can do something else while whoever's doing the Haxus drop gets it done. He doesn't like wasting time.

Bellamy glances away from his display to frown at her. "I'm amazed you didn't research them yourself."

"I did. It was--mixed."

"Yeah?"

"The articles were all pretty vague. I found some medical reports, but those were behind a paywall and I didn't want to shell out. All of the first-hand accounts read like pretty heavily fictionalized erotica. Ditto the video, that was just porn."

"I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. What did you want to know?"

"So, I don't get why you can't just jerk off. Like, I get that it makes you horny and that having another person is usually more satisfying, but if you're desperate--"

"Yeah, it's a weird combination of factors. Like I said, I did it in a controlled environment, and they modify it some for that."

"Details, Bellamy."

He laughs. "Okay, so--it's not just getting horny. There are some psychological side-effects, especially if you don't do it on purpose. It screws with your mind. It makes you want to be close to someone, I guess? A lot of other races can just use it as an aphrodisiac, but it makes humans kind of--paranoid and lonely. And cold?"

"Cold?"

"Yeah, that was actually the big thing. I didn't think no one would ever love me or anything, but I really, really wanted to be close to someone for body heat."

"So it's not about the act of penetration or anything. You don't feel an overwhelming need to have your dick inside something."

"No, just to get off, get warm, and--yeah, physical closeness. There wasn't a particular position we needed to be in."

"Did you ever do it with a woman?"

"Yeah, me and Echo tried it once or twice. It's not really--" He shrugs. "It's kind of like getting drunk and hooking up? It's fine, kind of fun, but it's not really _more_ fun than just getting laid. I had quicker recovery time, but I don't love the loss of self-control." He clears his throat. "Did you want to try it?"

"I don't think so? Not this time. I'm just kind of curious. It's one of those things--I heard about it, but I was pretty sheltered. Most drugs were just things bad people did, so I never learned a ton more about them."

"And you were a good kid, right?"

"For a while."

He clears his throat. "Do I get to ask you stuff now?"

"Do you want to?"

"Does it bother you when I call you _princess_?"

"No," she admits. "I like having a nickname."

"I know you don't want to tell us what actually happened with your family, that's cool. But did you have to leave, or did you want to?"

This is why he's her favorite; he's so _careful_. For all he puts on an asshole facade sometimes, he doesn't push, and he doesn't pry. 

"No one forced me out, I wasn't in any danger. But--I couldn't stay."

He nods. "I get that." There's a pause, and he clears his throat. "Glad you ended up here."

That's the other reason he's her favorite. "Yeah, me too."

*

Haxus IV is classified as "Earth-like," which doesn't mean it actually looks like Earth, but they have a lot of details in common. The flora and fauna don't resemble Earth creatures, but they exist in similar proportions to flora and fauna on Earth, the atmosphere has the correct proportion of gases for humans to be able to breathe, and gravity is close enough to human preferences that it's not really much of an adjustment.

If not for the whole sex-flower thing, Clarke would probably be feeling good.

"So, the issue is that it's just _around_?" she hisses at Bellamy.

"Haptians don't react to it like we do. It's like--catnip. But they're the humans and we're the cats. So, yeah, it's around. Breathe. I thought it wasn't a big deal?"

"I just want to be prepared."

"I promise if one of us accidentally is exposed to the sex flower, we'll have fun with it."

"I wasn't really worried the sex would be bad."

He raises his eyebrows at her. "No?"

"Why would I have asked you to come with me if I thought we'd have bad sex? The whole reason for you to come is so that we can have sex if we have to."

"As a last resort."

There's something a little bit off in his tone, but he jerks his head to a large set of doors before she can try to put it together. "That's the station," he says. "Come on, let's see if we can get a lift."

The delivery is in a smaller town, not the city, which increases the risk of exposure to Insatia, and as the lift train speeds them over the bright countryside, Clarke realizes, with some horror, that she's actually getting a little turned on, thinking about the possibility of encountering the flower.

It maybe shouldn't be a surprise. For one thing, she hasn't had sex with another sentient being in a while, over a year, and she likes it. And Bellamy is attractive as well as being a good guy, and she'd be lying if she said she'd never thought of him in a sexual capacity before. She finds herself thinking about him more and more, if she's honest, in all kinds of ways. And while she's not exactly into coercion, there _is_ some strange appeal to raw need, to losing control and giving herself over completely to lust.

"You okay?" he asks, when she shifts, trying to relieve the ache between her legs. The rough concern in his voice is absolutely not helping.

"Yeah." Something occurs to her. "How long does it take for the Insatia Lily to set in? You said it was pretty much right away, right?"

"Yeah. Like I said, I did a pill, not actual exposure. I went hot all over first, and then cold, and then, uh--"

"Hard?"

"Yeah. And really--aware. I felt like I could feel every molecule of air that was touching me. You didn't get hit," he adds. "Trust me. You'd know already."

"I know." She had been pretty sure this was normal arousal, but she'd like to know the difference. "I am going to be paranoid, though."

He huffs. "I thought it wasn't a big deal."

"It's not the actual sex. It's the wondering if it's going to happen or not. I don't like not knowing."

"Haxus missions might not be for you." She glares at him, and he grins. "Sorry."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What, not knowing? A little, I guess. But this isn't my first time."

"Your first time you were so let down you didn't get whammied that you whammied yourself," she points out.

It's the wrong thing to say; his eyebrows shoot up. "Yeah? Is that where you're at?"

"No, I'm just saying. You get it, right?"

"Maybe."

The intercom chimes, and an automated voice announces theirs is the next stop. Bellamy stands and stretches, shaking out his shoulders, and Clarke follows suit.

The delivery isn't too large, a box of fairly delicate parts that a workman wanted hand-delivered, to make sure they weren't damaged. Once they're off the train, Bellamy takes them to an empty part of the station to double-check the merchandise, and Clarke looks out the window, seeing if she can spot any Insatia Lilies in the unfamiliar flowers.

It does feel a little silly, thinking about it so much. But the suspense is killing her.

"Okay, looks good," says Bellamy. "Here."

Clarke blinks at the face mask. "Precautions?"

"I have no idea if it actually helps. I've heard it's actually pollen hitting the skin, not being injested. But I've always worn these and never been affected, so--"

She pulls the cloth over her nose and mouth. "Correlation does not equal causation, Bellamy."

"It could, though."

Outside, there's more vegetation than there was in the city, and Clarke takes it all in with eager curiosity. This had been what she was looking for, when she joined the crew of the _Arclight_. Alien planets, unknown vistas, the whole universe waiting for her to discover it.

The sex flower thing wasn't a specific part of the plan, but she'll live.

It's a mile walk to the store, and until the Insatia hits, most of Clarke's attention is on guiding the hover-cart they got from the station, making sure none of the parts get damaged. It takes so much of her focus that she doesn't even check the gardens.

The good news is that they're most of the way there when Bellamy says, "Oh fuck."

She frowns, looking up at him. He's stopped moving, and there's color rising on his neck; it doesn't take a genuis to read his expression.

"Did you--"

"Yeah. Keep moving."

"Seriously?"

"I'll make it until we drop it off, so just--"

She's gone about three steps when it hits her too, an abrupt flare of head, like someone dropped a match on her skin, and then it splutters out and she's feels cold and small and inescapably aware of Bellamy, so close, so _warm_ , so perfect. She wants every inch of him, wants his mouth on her, his hands, his _dick_ \--

"Bellamy--"

The strain in her voice is enough. "I know," he says. "I know, we're so close and once we get there we're going to be fine. I'm going to take care of you."

He's probably not trying to sound like the sexiest person who has ever lived, so Clarke tries not to let the fact that he does distract her. She's so wet she thinks he must be able to smell it, and her nipples are pebbling under her top, but she takes a deep breath and starts walking again, trying to ignore the friction the simple act of moving her legs causes.

It's not far. She can make it.

She's not sure if Bellamy's previous experience gives him an advantage or if he didn't get hit as hard or what, but he's the one who manages to check in with the mechanic receiving the delivery. Clarke doesn't really follow most of what's said, because all her energy is going into not touching Bellamy and trying not to think about touching him, which is not going very well, if she's honest. 

He hisses when he fingers dip under the hem of his shirt, ghosting over the slightly clammy skin of his back, but the mechanic only tuts sympathetically.

"I'm sorry to put you through this. There's a room on the second floor you can use, assuming you're planning to--" His proboscis flutters, the Haptian equivalent of a meaningful pause.

"Are you sure?" Bellamy asks. Clarke is going to fuck him, and then she's going to _murder him_.

"You're not the first humans to come to my door with this problem. Lift out back, the bedroom has a blue door."

Thankfully, Bellamy has no further protests, just thanks the mechanic, takes Clarke by the wrist, and tugs her to the back. The lift is small but the walls are metal, private, and as soon as they're in it, he's pushed their masks aside to kiss her, wet and rough and hot, and Clarke is grinding against his leg like she's going to die of wanting.

"Fuck, this was such a bad idea," he mutters. 

"You thought it wouldn't happen."

"That makes it worse." The lift opens and he hauls her out, moving her like she weighs nothing, like he doesn't even notice, and it sends a thrill through her entire body thinking about it.

The details of the room are mostly unimportant; Clarke knows it's not particularly nice, a pretty standard alien approximation of what a human habitat might look like, but it has a bed and Bellamy puts her on it, which is all that really matters.

When he hesitates, some part of her rational brain resurfaces. "Is this okay?"

He laughs, brushes his mouth against her throat, sending shivers all up and down her spine. "I'm never going to want to stop."

"It wears off, right?"

"The flower does." His hands slide under her shirt, hot on her stomach, pushing the cloth up. "What about you? Are you good?"

She gets her shirt off and goes for the buttons of his. "I will be once you're naked."

"I can do it faster myself." His eyes sweep over her. "You too."

Clarke kicks off her bottoms and then slides off her undergarments. Under normal circumstances, she'd be feeling self-conscious now, but the flower has driven any even vague doubts out of her head. She's never wanted anyone so much in her life; Bellamy must be feeling the same.

He looks good naked, as she was sure he would, all smooth skin and firm muscle. She knows he spends an hour in the ship's exercise facilities every morning, and it shows. His dick, when her eyes drift down to it, is perfect too, thick and already hard, curving up.

"First one just to take the edge off," he says, more to himself than her, and then he's on top of her, one firm thigh between her legs, and Clarke ruts up against him shamelessly, her whole being focused on how much she needs to get off.

Bellamy doesn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, that's good. Fuck, that's so good, you're so fucking wet. Is this how you want it? You want to get off like this, just rubbing up against my leg until you come?"

"Yeah," she manages, and he just presses down harder, kissing her deep and dirty as her pace gets more frantic. It's not going to be enough, she knows, but she needs it _now_ , needs to come apart against him, needs to know how it feels before she can even think of anything else.

His hand comes up to squeeze her breast and that's it; the orgasm tears through her, like nothing she's ever felt, almost too intense to even feel good. If not for his mouth swallowing her voice, she's sure they'd hear her scream at the space port.

Ordinarily after an orgasm that intense, she'd be out for the count, but the adrenaline is still running high. Her head is at least a little clearer, clear enough she can roll them over and take Bellamy in Bellamy, all hot and bothered and desperate.

"What do you want?" she asks. 

"Your mouth," he says, without hesitation. "Can't stop thinking about you sucking my dick."

She hadn't really been expecting him to be so specific, so sure, and another wave of arousal shudders through her. She's going to be ready to go again so soon.

"I can do that," she says, and slides down, pressing a few wet kisses against his chest as she goes.

It's been a few years since she did this, but it's not as if she really has to be that good to get him off right now. And the way his hand grounds itself in her hair, the way his hips shift in anticipation--it really feels like he _wants_ this.

She pulls her mind away from the dangerous thought; he does really want this, because he's under the influence. It has nothing to do with her.

He groans and thrusts up at the first brush of her lips against the head of his cock, and Clarke puts her arm down to remind him to stay still.

"Sorry," he murmurs, and then, "Please, Clarke, I need you."

It's not real, so she shouldn't think about it. She leans down, putting all her focus into giving the best blowjob of her life.

Well, okay, most of her focus, because the pollen is still affecting her, and it's not long before the feel of his dick in her mouth and the sounds he's making have her getting wet again, and she's grinding against the bed as she sucks him down.

He's close too, no surprise, which is good for her jaw and her own stupid body. All she has to do is slide her mouth as far down as she can and let him thrust and that's it; he comes into her mouth with a desperate, choked sound, and she just barely has time to swallow before he's pulling her up, getting her positioned over his own mouth so he can slide his tongue inside her, and she rides his face to her second orgasm.

"When does the edge get off?" she whines, and he laughs.

"Fuck, I don't know. Can I play with your breasts?"

"I want to make out too."

He tugs her down, and the kiss is surprisingly warm, more affectionate than desperate as his fingers find her nipple. He has such good hands, she's always thought, and they feel even better than she thought they would, so good the kissing doesn't even last because she's too breathless, too overloaded.

Which just means he gets his mouth on her breasts too, hot and wet and so good.

"I need you inside me as soon as you're ready," she manages, breathless. "Just--fuck, I want--"

"I know," he murmurs. "I've got you."

He gets her off again with his fingers, which puts her at so many more orgasms than he's had, but he doesn't seem to mind. And after that he finally, _finally_ slides into her, thick and hard and perfect.

"Fuck," she breathes, and he presses a sloppy kiss to her neck.

"That's the plan."

It's probably not actually the best sex she's ever had; the rhythm is a little off, he's so desperate and thrusting faster than she likes, but she's also wild for it, needs him so badly she can barely think. She doesn't even know how many times she comes before he does; it's a haze of heat and pleasure and _him_.

She doesn't remember passing out, but she must, because she comes to herself with Bellamy shaking her shoulder. Damp curls are falling on his forehead, and even though she's her own person again, sated and achy and a little embarrassed, she's still never seen anything as attractive as him in this moment.

That could be a problem.

"Hey," he says, voice even rougher than usual.

"Hi."

"Passing out is usually a good sign. Especially since you weren't humping me in your sleep. I assume you're good?"

She pushes her hair back, trying not to feel weird about being naked now and trying even harder not to notice the way he still is. They did just have sex. A _lot_ of sex. This shouldn't be the weird part.

"Yeah. You?"

"Good. Until we have to go downstairs."

Clarke flops onto her back, one arm over her eyes. "Do you think everyone here just--has a special human sex room? Is that standard? In case someone shows up and needs one."

He chuckles. "Probably not _everyone_. But humans manufacture the parts he needs, so maybe this comes up a lot."

"So he should weed his garden better."

The pause isn't awkward right away, but it stretches just a little too long before Bellamy asks, "It wasn't that bad, right?"

Clarke scrambles to sit. "Fuck, no, sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No, don't apologize," he says, just as quickly, tripping over his own words i his embarrassment. "That wasn't fair of me to ask, it wasn't--like that."

"It was good," she says. "Really good."

"Yeah, but it's a dick move to ask for feedback on semi-consensual whammie sex," he says, mouth twisted in half a smile.

"Fully consensual," she says. "For me, anyway. I picked you."

" _If I had to fuck someone on the crew_ isn't exactly--"

Her heart flips as she pieces things together, her mind running slow but working to catch up. "Bellamy. It wasn't like that. I mean, it was, but--" She bites her lip. "If you're having trouble because you think I don't want to have sex with you, you don't have to be. I definitely want to have sex with you. I feel like we could do a lot better."

That makes him laugh. "So, it _wasn't_ good," he teases.

She leans forward to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. "All the pollen kind of got in the way. I'm pretty sure you could fuck my brains out without chemical enhancement, and I'd like it more."

To her surprise, he doesn't smile. "I could. Sex is fun. But--"

"But you like me," she realizes.

"Yeah. Sorry."

It's so fucking _ridiculous_ , and she catches his mouth for a real kiss. Without the fog of the Insatia, it's sharper, clearer, and while she's not as hyperaware of how he smells or how warm he is, she can notice other things, imperfect things, the slightly painful rasp of his stubble under her fingers, the tremble in his hand as he puts it on her shoulder, the care he's taking to be good, to do it right.

"I like you too," she says, and he laughs, rests his forehead against hers.

"Cool. We should probably leave this guy's special sex room and get back to the city."

Clarke dissolves into giggles against his shoulder, from relief as much as genuine amusement. "How many people do you think have done this in here?"

"I don't want to think about it. Let's pretend ours was special."

She stands and offers him her hand, tugging him up after her. "It _was_ special."

He ducks his head for another kiss. "It was. But it's going to be a lot more special back on the ship, in our own beds."

"It is," she agrees. "Let's get to that."

*

They walk back to the station via a different route, hoping it will avoid further exposure to the Insatia Lily. Clarke doesn't mind having experienced it once, but given how sore and kiss-bruised she already is, she's not convinced she would have survived another round of unbridled lust.

Regular lust is fine with her; she likes Bellamy plenty all on his own.

"So, why did you agree?" she asks him, once they're safely back on the lift train.

"Agree to what?"

"Coming down here with me. If you were nervous about--whatever you were nervous about."

"That your willingness to have casual sex with me meant you weren't interested in having non-casual sex with me," he supplies. "And I agreed because I still wanted to have a day alone with you planetside. Also if you'd gone with someone else I would have been so fucking jealous the whole time you were gone."

"You could have just told me."

"Why tell someone you like them when you can play Russian roulette with sex plants instead?"

"At least you won."

He grins. "Yeah, I guess I did."

They get dinner and then go back to their hotel, staying inside to avoid any further exposure to the lilies. They don't have sex, but they make out for a while and share the bed, and when Raven sends the signal to let them know the rendezvous time, they leave Haxus IV behind, just a bright, strange memory. A good one, but--she's hoping they'll make better ones too.

Murphy's the one to let them in, which is a good way to come back to reality. "Did you break the shipment?" 

"Obviously," says Bellamy.

"Did you get laid?"

"So much," he says, voice still dry as sand.

Murphy frowns, glances at Clarke and then back at Bellamy. "I can't tell if you're bullshitting me."

"What happens on Haxus IV stays on Haxus IV. But it was a good trip," he adds. "And we're going to go make out now."

He groans. "Please tell me you didn't bring back fucking Insatia pills, I don't want to have to deal with that shit."

"We didn't bring back pills," says Clarke. "We like each other without any chemical enhancements."

"Shit, that might be worse."

Bellamy pats his shoulder. "You're going to have to learn to live with it."

He takes Clarke's hand and tugs her into the ship, and Clarke throws a smirk at Murphy over her shoulder.

Best mission ever.


End file.
